


Blank Skin

by fakebodies



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, kinda id marks, like u get a tattoo whenever u find someone you truly love, so some people r like plastered w/ tattoos and some only have one or two etc, u guys get it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 04:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6550345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakebodies/pseuds/fakebodies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He never needed fear, and he never needed love, either."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blank Skin

Boba’s skin was blank. This was an oddity in many non-religious places, which were the only places he seemed to frequent. The majority of the beings he interacted with had at least one tattoo. Some had many, others had tattoos layered on top of each other in an indistinguishable mess. Boba, however, had none- and he never had.

This could’ve been a problem if he’d been anyone other than who he was. No one saw beneath his helmet, let alone fully nude. Whatever people assumed about him, the fact that he was tattoo-less never became more than a hushed rumor paired with the “fact” he was soulless. It made things easier, anyways. No soulmate meant no person to hurt to control him, nothing preventing him from performing to the best of his abilities. It just worked out for the best. He never needed fear, and he never needed love, either.

There are people he’s fond of, naturally, but nothing ever develops. Any relationship that starts crumbles, Boba going his own way every time. He does what he can to prevent any attachments from forming- it gets in the way of his work and it always causes a mess, there’s no point to it that he can see. He does his best, but his best isn’t always enough.

When feelings start to develop for the towering, armor-clad Sith Lord he does what he can to push them down. He reminds himself he doesn’t have time for such things. His heart seems to disagree. Boba’s surprised when the feelings are returned, and even more so when what they start seems to work. Vader’s presence becomes comfortable in a way no one else’s was. Boba feels lonely for the first time in years whenever he departs without the Sith at his side.

The first words from his lips after he recovers from the Sarlacc’s acid are about Vader’s whereabouts. He almost destroys the medical droid that informed him of Vader’s death, but a well-timed injection renders him unconscious. He’s silent from then on.

It’s easy to fall back into the old routine. Nobody knows what’s beneath his helmet. No one knows how many potential soulmates he’s had. Some assume he’s soulless- they always have, the rumors never bother Boba. What bothers him is the new mark on his chest, over layers of scarring. A set of lines, forming a design common for japor snippets, and the name “Anakin” in Mando’a.

The dark lines of the tattoo are as tender as the day they appeared, though he refuses to bandage them. It would be more comfortable, but comfort isn’t something he can afford. Boba leaves the chest plate of his beskar’gam on almost constantly, grateful for the distraction from the almost-wound on his chest. He reminds himself that no one will see beneath his armor, gently laying his hand on his chest. No one will know of the bond he never knew he had.


End file.
